


Mask On/Mask Off

by starlightsongs



Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/F, Family Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightsongs/pseuds/starlightsongs
Summary: “Sometimes we don’t get to choose who sees us at our most vulnerable states of being.”---Misaki stresses about her work pay, Kaoru hasn’t worried about money once. Misaki’s family looks up to her and depends on her, while Kaoru’s family only enjoys the idea of her. Age 21 is the golden age of freedom: the one value they've both spent their whole life yearning for but not knowing how to achieve. What happens when an unexpected opportunity from an unlikely figure, gleaming with a golden outlook, promises to change their discontent? Will the unexpected duo be able to free themselves from the binding masks they’ve always worn?





	1. Prologue

_Prologue_

* * *

 

Growing up doesn’t happen in a day.  
It feels like it takes an eternity  
Yet before you know it  
You’re suddenly grown.

Suddenly your toys and interests are taken away.  
You have less time,  
And as reality creeps,  
You gain more responsibility.

You’re expected to be someone.  
You’re expected to play your role.

Or many roles, perhaps.  
Whatever it takes to make sure that the people you surround  
enjoy the “you” that they see.

Because when was the last time  
Someone preferred honesty?

More than anything,  
All you ever wanted  
Was to make someone feel like  
Life was worth living.

Make them feel happy!  
Make them feel lucky!  
Make them all smile!  
That’s why you’re here, right?

Though the real world  
Is not a fairytale.  
There are no princes and princesses,  
There are no teddy bears and Pegasus’s.

There is only you  
And how well you can control your realm of make believe.  
Because beyond the disguise,  
Beyond the mask you put on,  
Is a dimmed scene.

And when you take off this mask  
And look inside its contents  
You can’t help but admit that you’re frightened  
Because you don’t see  
Anything.

But maybe,  
Just maybe,  
This nothingness you see  
Is someone else’s glowing light.

So give it time,  
Give it patience,  
Allow yourself the ability to grow even more.

And only then you’ll find out how  
Even without the mask on  
You, too,  
Can shine bright.


	2. Square One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coldplay. “Square One”. X&Y. 2005.  
> Misaki Okusawa embarks on her walk home from the corner store.

_Chapter 1: Square One_

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, if you don't have enough, I’m afraid I will not be able to give this to you.”

 Misaki Okusawa sighed at the young cashier, staring longingly at the spare change that rested in her palm.

“It’s okay. Thank you for your time.”

The cashier smiled in return, though it was one of sorrow. Her smile had been upturned in nature, but the eyes drooped heavily, accentuating the dark circles that only the most fitful sleepers received. Her skin tone, as pale as the half-cooked chicken that rotted away in the Okusawa fridge, had lacked that sense of warm vitality one would expect from one’s local retail worker.

That was, if they weren’t faking it.

As she said her goodbyes, Misaki stepped out into the crisp air.

 _Cold_.

The frost kicked in faster than she could’ve yelled the f-word.

Scrambling for that ratty, thickly-knitted scarf filled with fuzzies shuffled away in the maze of books she lugged, she had forgotten how fickle the weather had become, its temperature and outlook changing within the blink of an eye. 

She pulled her phone and earbuds out from the bottom of the bag, tracing her index finger along the lightning-bolt of a crack that enclosed its screen. Tapping lightly on the icon with the rainbow-colored music note, she waited patiently as the device’s response staggered – a sort of jagged movement reflected by what was considered to be the most effective form of communication. She thought back to loud TV advertisements and the promise that smart phones were the future.

But smart phones couldn’t do everything.  
For starters, they couldn’t stabilize her family.

Hitting the shuffle button, she began her walk home.

Coldplay. “Square One”. _X &Y_. 2005.  
**_You’re in control, is there anywhere you want to go?_**

Misaki hadn’t listened to this album in a while, but it didn’t bother her. After all, the music she kept within her handheld device was a matter of choice. She let her feet guide her towards the still distant, but familiar path to her current living accommodation.

This path was not a matter of choice.

She didn’t choose to be pulled away from her humble home. She didn’t choose to watch her mother’s heartbreak, and she most certainly didn’t choose to be a witness of the spiral of depression that soon followed. She hadn’t _wanted_ to give up a stable life with stable friends in a stable household, but she soon learned that reality and stability were mortal enemies: constantly at each other’s throat in fight for the throne. Reality won. It always won, and it ruled mightier than any contester ever could.

**_You’re in control, is there anything you want to know?_ **

She stared up at the dark sky, consistent of smoky polluted clouds smothering the bright stars. remembering a time when she had been able to see their beauty. At age ten, she’d stared up at that same sky with her father, pointing out all of the constellations that shone.

_“And that one’s the big dipper! Right?”_

_“Yes, that’s right! Good guess, sweetheart.”_

She knew that naiveté could no longer be rekindled, but still, she wanted to know what it was like being able to see a glimmer of light even through the darkest mass of gray.

In fact, there was so much she wanted to know, so much she _needed_ to know. Just two weeks ago, she had been informed of her “coming of age” to twenty-one. She didn’t understand what was so special about the number except for that in this country it allowed college kids to do all of the binge drinking they already do illegally, _legally_. But everyone within and outside of her immediate circle treated it as if suddenly she could choose where her life went. As if she suddenly had control.

She didn’t.

 **_The future’s for discovering  
_ ** **_the space in which we’re travelling._ **

Was it?

Misaki stopped. She hadn’t thought about what the future held. It was too far tangled in uncertainties to be deciphered, such as whether they’d be able to afford rent this month, or if the heating would work in time for the winter season, or if her mother’s condition would get better.

Her mother would often lay in the bed that only barely fit her frail body. Her eyes would gaze at the ceiling, irises clouded with concern. Her mouth moved, trying to form English sentences and words, but often get caught behind “r”s that were so far fetched from the “r”s she knew, just as “our” was no longer the “our” she thought she’d have forever. And yet she’d turn to her eldest daughter, her eyes twinkling hopefully, as if softly whispering “thank you” to the girl who tried her hardest to make it all right again.

Would it ever be?

How was she supposed to think about “discovering the future”? She couldn’t. It’d be selfish to put her shallow concerns first.

She slowed her steps, knowing she’d be near home and not wanting to approach the barren scene quite yet.

 **_From the top of the first page.  
_ ** **_To the end of the last day._ **

A story.

Her sister.

Young, beaming, bright-eyed Michiko loved bedtime stories.

Fantasy-esque themes that were filled with unicorns, pegasuses, princes, and princesses took on a certain dominance in the young girl's preference. But most importantly, Michiko saw value in the promise of a happier future, and absolutely loved when the story’s protagonist changed an aspect of society for the better.

Misaki always wondered how the young one did it, keeping a smile and positive outlook even when things got tough. She was almost nine now, and would be approaching her preteens before Misaki knew it. She knew how many feelings were involved in growing up, though she had been lucky to experience them in a stable environment.

At the time, she hadn’t understood the luxury.

**_From the start in your own way_ **

Misaki stared at her hands as they ached. The bruises, scattered like a pack of ants chasing tossed breadcrumbs, hurt, but she could not let anyone know that they hurt. She had once wished her hands were able to glide amongst her beloved vinyl records instead of the terrifying operational machines, but only one of those two provided the stability she desperately needed.

She didn’t have much of a choice. The pay was right, and they took her in though she lacked the proper work visa. She should consider herself lucky, and continue to endure the pain. She _had_ to.

**_You just want somebody listening to what you say_.**

Yet there was a loneliness that ached amongst this day-to-day struggle.

She kept a smile for the two to see, the brave face, and knew that she could never let them down. The comforting looks that were given in response warmed her heart and reminded her of her what she needed to do and why she’d continue to take the risks.

But it hurt knowing there was no one to talk to about the immense pressure that weighed.

**_It doesn’t matter who you are_.**

If only she didn’t have to leave. If only she was able to unload her anxieties upon the only pair of ears that would listen. Of course, thanks to the “saving grace” of technology, they kept in touch.

But she couldn’t deny the certain awkwardness that continued to linger amongst her and the girl once closest to her heart.

**_It doesn’t matter who you are_.**

Misaki stared ahead as she approached the apartment complex, its exterior crumbling, covered with crossed-out spray-painted slurs and a promise that used to be, but no longer could be fulfilled.

“Land of the free,” she muttered to herself, as she approached the front door with ease, hoping it wouldn’t creak.

The song’s instrumental break came on, and her body begged for her hands to move along to the rhythm, to feel the pulse within her and mimic it to the best of her ability. But her body ached too much from the exhaustion of a long day, and the thought of that childish fantasy coming to life. She instead traced her fingers along the rough parchment paper of a wall as she approached the stairs. Flight one, just eleven more to go.

 **_Is there anybody out there who  
_ ** **_Is lost and hurt and lonely too?_ **

The hallow walls seemed to scream though they lacked the ability to speak. An old lady with a cane approached from the other end coming down. The two exchanged that familiar, small, sad smile. The old woman opened her mouth as if to say something before shutting it again.

 **_Are they bleeding all your colors into one?  
_ ** **_And if you come undone_ **

Misaki huffed aloud, noting the visible breath fog and the lack of insulation. Years ago, she had complained too many times about her home being too air-conditioned in the summer, but she would give anything to trade this freezing hell for that peaceful chill.

 **_As if you’ve been run through  
_ ** **_Some catapult, it fired you._ **

A familiar number appeared on the door, though she no longer had to look to know she was on the right floor. She treaded down the hallway, all the way to the end, steps as slow as she could make them.

**_You wonder if your chance will ever come_ **

 Ear against the door, she could hear the youngest one chirp in delight.  
“Mom, Mom! Sis is here! Sis is here! I heard her footsteps!”

She opened the door, prepared for whatever mess she would clean today, for whatever mess of a dish she’d cook for all of them, for whatever story she would tell to make her mother and sister sleep peacefully. Because regardless of what the future held, this was her home, and these were the people she loved and held dear to her heart. It wasn’t the dream life she had once wanted, but it was a life, and there was nothing she could do except keep working at it. That was just the way it was.

**_Or if you’re stuck in square one_.**


End file.
